Waiting For Molly
by Medusae Aequorea victoria
Summary: He's not a conceited man but Greg is sure that Molly likes him. Why then is she avoiding him? Gentle but determined, Greg decides to find out. (This story will have ten chapters and a happy ending :-))
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

There was something vulnerable about Molly Hooper that brought out DI Greg Lestrade's protective instincts. He knew he was hopelessly out-dated in this respect, women these days found the idea of male protectiveness more quaint than anything and he took some ribbing for it at work. But he respected Molly too; she was tough when it came to her work and smart he thought, as he knocked on the door of the lab above the morgue.

She looked up as usual, smiling at him as he entered the room, but giving no sign of anything other than professional courtesy. He gave a small inward sigh.

"Hello Greg, which case is it today?" she asked in her friendly manner.

She ran the morgue with astonishing efficiency and could remember the details of every case for at least the past twelve months. He wished more of his officers had her brain and commitment. He paused some way off from her with his hands in his pockets; for some reason he always felt a little clumsy in her presence.

"The Sylvester file", he said looking down with a shake of his head, "Again." "His widow's saying now it was poison…."

"You'd like me to run more tests? I'll start on it straight away."

"No, no," he replied hastily, "Just when you have time, not a high priority, I know how busy you are." The thought of her working late in the lab at night disturbed him although like his ex-wife she would probably laugh off his concern if she knew of it. He supposed it was patronizing to suggest women couldn't look after themselves, even at night in the city. Still, after the things he's seen in his long career, terrible things, the feeling was impossible to shake.

"Oh, it's no bother," Molly was saying brightly.

"Ah, well, thank you."

He smiled and turned away, unable to think of anything further to say although he wished he could.

Just at that moment the ear-splitting ringing of the hospital emergency alarm began to sound.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed Molly, flustered.

Greg noticed that she started violently at the sound and sensitive to her agitation he smiled reassuringly at her and gestured courteously for her to proceed him toward the fire exit.

They made their way up the stairs, Molly explaining nervously over the sound of the alarm, "It will be just a drill, they said we'd be having one this week."

He nodded in reply, feeling distracted by her nearness but firmly trying to repress the sensation. She was much younger than he and probably considered him old. She was staying very close to him however, as they moved to the entrance crowded with staff and patients leaving the building and he wondered if he should offer her his arm. He hesitated, not sure if the gesture would be welcomed.

They were descending the main front steps of the hospital moving toward their muster point when he heard a shout and a scuffle behind them. Turning quickly, his reflexes fast from years of police work, he was able to deflect the oncoming figure that without his action would have knocked Molly to the pavement. Still, she stumbled; losing her balance and hitting her head on one of the main entrance pillars before he was able to catch her. Alarmed, he lifted her into his arms and intent on getting her away from the crowd, left hospital security to deal with the panicked patient who had flung himself down the stairs and into Molly.

He carried her in the direction of his vehicle since returning to the hospital was impossible for the moment, noting with relief that she wasn't completely unconscious. He could feel her struggling to move but too dazed to do so. She was surprisingly light, too light he thought; there must be almost nothing to her under the baggy clothing and the too big lab coat. He murmured something soothing to quiet her, deftly opened the passenger door of the car and placed her gently onto the seat. He then carefully reclined it and leaning forward, felt for her pulse.

Her heart rate was good and he could see some colour returning to her cheeks. He was leaning over her, gently examining the side of her head where it had come into sharp contact with the pillar when her eyes opened.

She stared up at him shocked and just as he was about to say something to her, she gasped, "No, don't! Please don't!" and flung herself wildly away from him toward the driver's seat.

He drew back in such surprise that he banged his head on the roof of the car. He watched stunned, as she clutched her head in pain, staring at him in fear, as tears filled her brown eyes.

"Molly!" he exclaimed, "What is it?"

Wanting to calm her, but afraid to move, he stood helplessly at the open car door. As he watched, he saw recognition start to return to her eyes, perhaps at the sound of his voice, although the confusion remained.

"Molly," he said again, softly.

"Oh God," she said, still holding her head and trying to cover her eyes at the same time. It was the first time he'd ever heard her swear, mild as it was, and it alarmed him further.

"It's okay," he said awkwardly, "You bumped your head while we were going down the stairs and I brought you to my car, that's all. You are going to be fine." He smiled encouragingly, wishing she would look at him.

"Oh, Greg, yes, of course!" she attempted a laugh, struggling to regain her composure. "How silly of me! Thank you, I'm fine now, thank you," she said again, trying to sit up, clearly wanting to leave the car.

"Molly, I think we should get someone to look at your head…"

"Heavens no! I'm fine, I'll just go back to the lab now, thank you I'm fine."

Except she couldn't stand up on her own.

"Please, Molly, let me help you," he said, full of anxiety now, knowing something was wrong, but uncertain what it was.

There was a pause, during which she must have realized she couldn't stand or walk on her own before she said in a small voice, "Yes, a…..alright, thank you."

He put his arm around her, keeping his distance as best he could for that seemed to be what she wanted. Slowly, they made their way back to the hospital.

She didn't seem to have a concussion but she needed to be careful for at least twenty-four hours the intern who examined her announced cheerfully. She could expect a strong headache and there would be significant bruising he added. A lump was already forming.

Glancing at her as they left A&E, Greg could see she was near complete exhaustion. She had assured the intern that she would not go home alone but would go to her sister's place for at least the night and had accepted without protest Greg's offer to drive her there. He left her briefly in the care of a hospital aide and went down to the lab to collect her bag and coat, locking the lab doors on his way out.

He brought his vehicle to the hospital entrance, assisted her into the passenger seat and drove to her sister's flat. Her sister, whom he had talked to briefly from the hospital, was waiting for them. Molly had said nothing during the drive, not that he had expected her too, but it worried him none-the-less. He left them with both his mobile and home phone numbers with a request to call him if they needed anything. As he handed her over to her sister, Molly smiled politely from a pale face, but did not meet his eyes. He puzzled over this, and indeed the entire incident, as he drove somewhat distractedly back to his office. Something was clearly wrong with Molly.


	2. Chapter 2

Greg very much wanted to see Molly the next day but he settled for sending her flowers for which she called to thank him. She assured him she was perfectly fine and that he need no longer be concerned about her. He got the strong impression that she was warning him off. Initially, being the sensitive soul that he was, he felt hurt, especially since she was becoming increasingly difficult to get out of his thoughts. He wasn't a conceited man; if anything rather too self-effacing but he was sure she didn't dislike him. He remembered the frightened start she had given when the alarm at the hospital had gone off and how she had stepped, perhaps involuntarily, closer to him. Instinct had told her that he would protect her. She was nervous but not of him he was sure; it was something or someone else.

He waited several days before, on the pretence of enquiring about another case, he went to the lab again. Before he knocked on the door he stopped to take a deep breath and gather his confidence, glancing through the window as he did. Molly was there, but she was sitting still and although she wasn't facing the door he thought she looked sad. No, not just sad. Her stillness and the droop of her shoulders communicated something more… defeat. Alarmed and by now convinced that something was very wrong, he quietly retreated a few yards back down the hall. Then, so as not to embarrass her he made a noisier approach including a soft but audible knock on the door. He waited a second or two before entering in case she needed the time to gather her thoughts.

He'd been right he saw as he entered; her cheerful mask was back in place and she greeted him with a bright smile. He returned her smile and asked politely how she was feeling. She was still a little pale he could see, but she reassured him she was fine. Not dwelling on that, sensing she was uncomfortable, he asked about the case.

"Yes, yes," she said, "I remember the file. I'll get it right away." She got up immediately and went to where the morgue file boxes were neatly stored, reaching to lift one of the higher ones down. Wanting to assist her, Greg followed and leaned over her to take the box as she grasped it. She must have been unaware that he had followed her because as he reached above her she turned with a sharp cry, cringing away and almost falling. "Don't!" she gasped, her eyes dark with fear as she stared up at him.

He stepped back sharply at her outburst. Continuing to back away from her and automatically switching into his professional mode, he made a calming gesture with his hand and said in a soothing voice, "It's okay, Molly, it's okay, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry; I was just going to lift the box down for you. That's all." He continued to back away, giving her as much space as he could. My God, he wondered, what the hell is going on?

Molly was quickly pulling herself together, trying to recover her composure. "Oh, I, I was just surprised that's all, I'm sorry Greg, I've just been a bit jumpy lately, perhaps it was the fall," she babbled on trying to cover her embarrassment. "Is this the file you wanted?"

He could see now that tears weren't far away as she said quickly, "Please take all the time you need to look at it, you can use the desk in the office…please excuse me, I've somewhere to be now. I'm so sorry; please lock the office on your way out." And with this she almost ran from the lab.

Greg remained standing motionless for some time before he picked up the file box from where it had landed on the floor, placed it in the office, carefully locked the door and left the lab, still deep in thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Warning for implied sexual assault.

Greg's job was particularly demanding over the next week but he continued to think about Molly. He was deeply worried and puzzled about her behaviour but did not return to the lab. His recent visits seemed only to upset her.

Distracted and more dissatisfied than ever with his work, he could hardly bring himself to show up at the office each day. He felt old and tired. The feeling had been creeping up on him for years he admitted to himself; this disillusionment with his job and with his life was not something new. It wasn't the divorce; that had been more of a relief than anything when they had finally gotten around to it. The kids were in college and university now. His ex-wife was happy to be out of their marriage and focusing on her triathlon training and her new fitness coach, he thought without bitterness.

Then one particularly difficult night when one shift was short two officers, he rode along on an assault in progress call. It was the same ugly scene as he remembered from his early years as a patrol officer; a man drunk and belligerent, a woman with unknown injuries, unable to raise her eyes from the floor and being assisted by female officers to a waiting ambulance. It sickened him beyond measure but he did the work required to the best of his ability; following up with victims' services, completing the paperwork for the arrest, the restraining order, the peace bond and a call to the prosecutor to put a word in her ear about no bail for the accused. Finally, everything done that could be done; he went home for a few hours of sleep before returning to the office in the early afternoon.

He was never sure why it hit him then but he was on his way to his desk passing the interview rooms when the realization stuck him: Molly's terror at coming-to in his vehicle and finding him looming over her, the panic triggered by his unexpected movements, her painful insecurity and the avoidance of eye contact…. He halted, so horrified that he stopped breathing. He tried to un-think the thought. It couldn't be true! He didn't want it to be true. But it was too late. Every instinct, all of his training, the experiences of years on the force told him he was right.

He dragged air like fire into his lungs. No! Not Molly! Rage flooded his body and his self-control snapped. Unable to stop himself, he picked up the nearest chair and flung it against the glass window of an empty interview room. Disregarding the safety glass exploding before him and the shocked expressions of his colleagues, his fists clenched and chest heaving, he strode from the office. He had to move, to fight, to do something with the flood of anger and pain that was choking him. Unaware of the rain beating down on his jacketless back, he turned in the direction of the industrial road. Once on it, he began to run. Maybe he could outrun it, could he? He would try.

She must never know that he had guessed. If she did, she would hide away and be lost to him forever. Her shame would kill any chance of a relationship with him, no matter what he said to her. He knew her and he knew how it was for victims: for some grossly unfair reason they almost always blamed themselves. Dear God, what could he do?

He ran and then walked himself to exhaustion, only to arrive home and spend what was left of the early morning hours sleepless staring at the ceiling of his bed room. But by the end of that long night he had made a decision. He'd discovered that he cared for Molly (for how long he had, he didn't know, but it didn't matter…), she needed help and support and he could provide it. So really, nothing had changed from the day before except that he had a new understanding of his feelings and a new sense of purpose. Oh that and he wanted badly to find the monster who had hurt her.

He left for his office at the usual time, looking the worse for wear and not sure what to expect from his colleagues. Sure enough, when he arrived he found a terse email in his inbox from his boss ordering him to show up for a psychological assessment and informing him he was now on stress leave until further notice. Good, he thought, getting up and firmly striding back out of the office; more time to hunt down and kill the bastard who had hurt Molly.

He nodded briefly to Donovan and Anderson on his way out. They wouldn't miss him he knew; probably they were glad to see him sidelined. They considered his pragmatic, bend-the-rules-to-get-the-case-solved approach to be too old-school. They were by-the-book, new-school types. Feeling only a little guilty, he let himself acknowledge his dislike for them both. I'm going to enjoy being fired, he thought suddenly.


	4. Chapter 4

Feeling freer that he had in months, maybe even years, Greg left his office and returned to his flat. He showered, shaved, changed into casual clothes and drove himself to the hospital and Molly. He took a steadying breath before he knocked on the door then smiled at her as he entered the lab. To his relief she smiled back, busy at the counter with a microscope. He knew she loved her work and that she excelled at it gave her confidence. Before she could ask why he was there, as he didn't want to tell her yet that he was now more-or-less unemployed, he asked in a friendly manner what she was working on. His distraction was successful for without hesitation, she began a detailed description of an unusual case that had come in the previous night.

He was seated on a stool a comfortable distance away from her, listening with interest, when she stopped and said nervously, "Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry, I forgot, how rude, would you like some coffee? I should have asked, I mean offered."

Before she could take a step in the direction of the lab coffee machine, he smiled, unfolded his arms, stood slowly and said, "Yes, I'd love a coffee, let's go to the _DemiTasse_, it's just around the corner, I heard the coffee's great there. You can finish telling me about the case; we had one something like it a few years back..." then, giving her no time to think about it, he reached smoothly for her coat and held it open for her expectantly.

"Oh, um," she blushed in surprise, "Right, well, okay."

The café wasn't crowded for the main rush of the day had subsided. He had known this would be the case, he wouldn't have suggested coffee out otherwise, as perhaps too many people, too close would have made Molly uncomfortable.

He asked casually what type of drink she would like, smiling easily when she shrugged her slender shoulders and said, "Oh, I'm not sure, anything is fine."

He settled her in a seat at a table near the counter where she could see him order their drinks. Not wanting to leave her alone at the table for long, he asked the server for two cups of their ready-to-pour blend. He took these to their table and watched as she added milk and sugar to hers so he'd be able to fix it the way she liked it the next time they came. As he watched, he thought how pretty her hands were. He hadn't felt like this looking at a woman since college, no, correct that, he hadn't felt like this looking a woman, ever.

When they were finished, he walked her back to the lab and resisting the strong urge to stay with her for the rest of the day; accepted her stammered thanks and left her with a casual nod of his head and a lift of his hand. Then, feeling unbearably restless, he went to his gym and worked himself to the same state of exhaustion that he had the day before.

He forced himself to wait a full day before going to the lab again to see Molly. He spent a good deal of the day at the gym again; it helped to relieve the anxiety that refused to stop gnawing at his chest. He didn't sleep well.

When he arrived at the lab in the mid-morning of the following day, Molly greeted him with a shy smile. He had a sense she was glad he was back, which filled him with hope, but he could tell by the untidy piles of papers and equipment scattered about the room that she was busy.

Determined not to interfere with her work, he said, "I can see how busy you are, perhaps coffee out another time?" He was surprised and pleased to see a shadow of disappointment cross her face at this. So he continued without a pause, "I'll head over to the café then and get us a couple of coffees to go. Same as last time?" he questioned with another smile.

"Oh! Why yes, of course, yes, that would be nice," she stammered with surprise, the happiness back in her face.

With another smile and nod of his head, he departed. This time he bought a fresh sandwich for each of them as well as the promised coffee. She probably wouldn't have time to break for lunch and he hadn't eaten since yesterday. Not sure what kind of sandwich she'd like, he ordered one vegetarian and one ham and cheese, so she could choose. He ordered extra cheddar for both. She was beautiful, actually more than beautiful he considered, but her lightness had concerned him.

She blushed and stammered again when he offered the sandwiches, making him wish he'd brought her some dessert as well. He thought her blushes were adorable. Wishing he could kiss her pink cheeks, he sat back on the stool again, experiencing a sense of deep contentment that they were together and that Molly seemed happy in his presence. But he didn't stay for too long mindful of her heavy schedule.

That afternoon, he presented himself as ordered at the police psychiatrist's office for his mandatory assessment. The doctor, who had been around long enough to recognize true crazy when he saw it, simply recommended an appointment with a nutritionist, regular exercise and a program of peer counselling for anger management. Nothing is going to manage this anger, thought Greg grimly, except the slow and painful death of whoever had hurt Molly. But he left not displeased, realizing he'd gotten off pretty lightly, all things considered. He knew his colleagues were likely very put out with him for leaving them down one interview room.

"Lestrade, you crazy bastard," said a jovial voice in his ear when he answered his ringing mobile that evening. The voice continued, "I heard you were looking for work; Christ, I thought you'd never quit that down-town team of _!"

The expletive was as colourful as any he'd heard in recent months and Greg grinned despite himself.

"So, what happened down there, anyway? Ran out of milk for the coffee? I hate that powdered shit too," continued the voice with a hearty laugh.

"Charlie," Greg said. He'd first met Charlie at Hendon and they had developed a close friendship during their training. They had drifted apart in the years since, his own fault, Greg knew. Charlie had continued to call him from time to time but what with his wife and the kids… although Greg knew blaming his family wasn't entirely fair. When had he lost his drive for his career, in fact his drive for nearly everything, he wondered silently to himself?

"Listen," Charlie was saying, "We're setting up a new unit over here in fraud. We could really use a guy like you, Greg. How about a pint? I'll fill you in."

He enjoyed his drink at the pub with Charlie. He actually felt some of his old enthusiasm for policing emerge as Charlie talked about his work. His friend was as affectionate and easy-going as ever and his sense of humour lightened Lestrade's mood, if only temporarily. They parted on good terms after making an arrangement for a more formal meeting in a few days to discuss the position in the new unit.


End file.
